


Start Making Fires

by saidthemagpie



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Gunplay, M/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saidthemagpie/pseuds/saidthemagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before a big heist, and Lupin has left Jigen alone in their hotel room while he chases after some blonde. Jigen's ready to turn in, but a knock on the door brings an unexpected reunion. Have Lupin's plans changed, or was he planning something else all along? </p>
<p>Alcohol, smoking, cursing, rough play, and an unhealthy fixation on a certain combat Magnum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start Making Fires

Cigarette smoke curls lazily upwards towards the dimmed overhead light, and Jigen shifts his feet, propped up on the low glass coffee table where his Magnum is laid out in all its parts after a thorough cleaning. He eyes it appreciatively, then settles deeper into the over-stuffed sofa. It's almost too comfortable, but then again, this is probably the last time they'll stay anywhere near this fancy for a while, so he figures he'd better try to enjoy it. Even if the job tomorrow goes well, and somehow he can't bring himself to believe that it will, they'll have to lay low for weeks afterwards...cheap motels at best, sleeping cramped in the Fiat somewhere out in the woods at worst. Here he is, though, five stories up in a four-star hotel, in a lavishly-furnished room with a king-sized bed...  
  
“It's the closest to the bank,” Lupin had explained with a shrug and a grin. “Besides, a little bird told me that a certain heiress with a penchant for shiny and expensive jewelry will be staying there that night too---we'll get a nice room and then you'll have it all to yourself, if you catch my drift.” A wink and a nudge, and the plans were laid. Jigen had suggested they bring Goemon in for back-up on the heist, but Lupin had dismissed him with a wave. “It'll be a cinch. Let him sit this one out. In fact, I think he and Fujiko have something else planned anyway. We'll all meet back up in three days, with the money from the bank  _and_  a handful of jewels on top.”  
  
Jigen sighs, remembering the confident look on his partner's face. They parted ways at the bar downstairs two hours ago---Lupin had elbowed him hard and pointed at some slender blonde disappearing into the crowd, then leapt up off the barstool to follow her. Jigen had finished his drink quietly and made his way back upstairs, only to find himself strangely restless, alone in the too-large room. He'd spent the better part of an hour on the gun, but after that he'd simply sat and smoked. He'd gone over every detail of the job meticulously, and that still hadn't stopped his thoughts from drifting to Lupin and his whereabouts. Not that there was any doubt about where the thief was---already in bed with the heiress, most likely.   
  
He resists the urge to stub out his cigarette on the arm of the sofa, reaching instead for the china ashtray on the cushion next to him, already half full. He frowns, feeling unsettled, then sits up and begins to put the Magnum back together, slowly and carefully. He loads the gun and finishes by tucking it safely into the back of his belt. Much better. A glance at his watch reveals that it's a little past midnight, but he doesn't feel tired, and to be honest he can't imagine sleeping in a bed that size anyway. He decides he's going to spend the night on the goddamn couch, doesn't care if Lupin comes back in time to find him there.  _He probably won't come back here at all. I'll have to go looking for him._  
  
The knock on the door almost startles a yelp out of him, and his hand goes immediately to his gun.   
  
“Room service?” A feminine voice, with a somewhat sultry tinge to it.   
  
Jigen can't decide whether to pretend to be asleep, to hide, to go out the window---whatever this is, it has to be a trap of some kind. He stands up slowly and turns towards the door, which suddenly clicks open. He heaves a sigh as Lupin slips into the room, a mischievous look on his face and his hands behind his back.   
  
“One of these days I'm just gonna shoot you,” Jigen mutters.   
  
Lupin grins. “Don't be sour. Look what I brought you.” He reveals a bottle of expensive scotch in one hand and two small glasses in the other.   
  
Jigen's expression softens a little. “What happened?”  
  
“She dumped me.” He pulls a puppy dog face.  
  
“Already? You must be losing your touch.”  
  
“We didn't even get to the touching!” he whines, kicking the door shut behind him and slumping back against it dramatically. “This was strictly an intelligence error. She's here with someone else. Someone the size and temperament of a gorilla.”   
  
“Well, good for Pops,” Jigen smirks, lighting up another cigarette.   
  
“Very funny. This guy's definitely mafia, though. I'm throwing in the towel. Come on, help me drown my sorrows, and tomorrow we'll just do the job like we planned.”  
  
Jigen rolls his eyes, but Lupin has already settled down on the sofa and started pouring the drinks, and he can't help feeling a little relieved. They have enough to worry about tomorrow without the added complication of a woman. He lets himself relax, accepting the first glass with a smile.  
  
It's going on one in the morning, with Lupin in the middle of a story about one of his teenage escapades, when Jigen remembers that they need to get some sleep. He offers his partner the bed, feigning selflessness, sure that Lupin will take him up on it and he'll get to stay on this impressively soft couch.   
  
Lupin laughs. “You sure? I mean, it's big enough for the both of us.”  
  
“I don't think I could sleep with you snoring right next to my face,” Jigen shoots back.  
  
“I do not snore!”   
  
“Yes you do! Like a goddamn engine.”  
  
Lupin shakes his head with a chuckle, then, “Okay, so we won't sleep.”  
  
A pause. “Pardon?”  
  
“I wasn't planning on sleeping much tonight anyway.”  
  
“Well, your plans changed, didn't they?”  
  
“That much hasn't changed.” For a moment Jigen isn't sure he heard right, but Lupin's expression makes his meaning plain.   
  
“You can't be serious.” No response---Lupin simply raises an eyebrow, smile fixed. Jigen stares hard at him, trying to work out the angle of the joke. “'Case you forgot, buddy, I don't really measure up to your heiress in certain key areas.”   
  
“Oh, I'm not too worried about you measuring up,” Lupin grins, sliding over quick enough to make the ice clink musically in the half-empty glass of scotch he's still holding. One long, wiry arm settles around Jigen's shoulders, and for a moment Jigen is disoriented by the familiarity of the gesture. Then the shock of context hits, and he shrugs him off, body tensing.  
  
“Come on, it ain't funny,” he growls. “I'm not your type, Lupin.”  
  
“Who says I've got a type? You know me, Jigen. Blondes, brunettes, redheads, tall, short---”  
  
“--- _women_! You gonna tell me something I don't know here? You really think I'm gonna believe you go for men too?” Jigen lifts the brim of his hat so he can look the other man in the eye.   
  
“Would you really be that surprised?” Lupin leans back a little, still grinning. He holds Jigen's incredulous gaze for a few seconds, then glances away with a nonchalant shrug. “Now and again. Been known to happen. Not usually when I'm sober, but then, lucky for you,” and he downs the last of his drink, “I'm not sober.”   
  
Jigen just watches him, fingers clenched tight around his own glass, caught between ending this bizarre charade by standing up to leave or sticking around a little longer to hear whatever punchline has got to be coming. For a moment Lupin doesn't break the silence, though Jigen notices that his eyes, even through their mildly drunken glaze, have that calculating gleam they get when he's working something out. Then Lupin's lip curls up into a half-smile, and, “What about you?”  
  
“What about me what?” Jigen snaps, confused and beginning to be irritated by the way the alcohol seems to be slowing him down.  _Focus. Don't get carried away here. He's fucking with you._  
  
“Do you...you know...” Lupin drawls, playfully coy, one finger tracing a curving line across the back of the sofa.  
  
“What, damnit?”  
  
“...with men?” he finishes, and Jigen almost loses hold of his drink, hand clenching reflexively again to catch it before it spills all over his lap.  
  
“The fuck---no!---of course I don't---what are you---look, I've had enough, let's get whatever this is over with so we can both laugh it off and call it a night, ok?” But the smug grin is gone from Lupin's face, replaced with something that looks unsettlingly like impatience.  
  
“You do, Jigen, you do. I  _know_  you do,” Lupin says quietly. “Not often, and certainly never when you're sober. But,” and here his voice lifts back into a brighter, brasher range, and the smile returns, “lucky for me,  _you're_  not entirely sober either.”   
  
Jigen's sense that this is all an elaborate prank is slipping, replaced by the sudden, panicky suspicion that it may be an elaborate something else. The booze, the girl, the hotel room, maybe even the job---could Lupin have set the whole thing up? For this? To...no, no way. Lupin only ever goes to those lengths over that ridiculous woman---not that it ever even works. Maybe he's finally tired of tailing her. Maybe he really wants this, just for tonight, just 'cause he's drunk, and bored, and... _Stop. You're just making it harder. Leave now before it gets ugly_ , he tells himself.   
  
“You still think I'm joking.” Lupin's voice jolts him back from his thoughts. He's got his head cocked to one side, a quizzical look on his face. “Well, what's it gonna take to convince you? More scotch?” He giggles, reaching for the bottle.  
  
“One, you're wrong about me.” Jigen sets his glass down on the table with a thud. “Two, there ain't enough scotch in the country to convince me you're not having me on here. Three, I'm sick of it and I'm going to bed. You keep the room. I'll find another.” He stands---the room tilts a little but he manages not to visibly react---and starts towards the door, trying his damnedest not to look back at Lupin's face. He can't decide if he's more afraid Lupin is laughing at him, or afraid of the alternative.   
  
“Wait. Hey, wait a second!” Lupin vaults over the back of the couch in a surprising display of coordination, given his semi-intoxicated state. “Look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, ok?”  
  
Jigen's hand is on the doorknob, but he can't help himself; he turns. “So you're admitting it? This was some kind of stupid joke?” He tries to keep his voice as level as possible. _You're relieved, okay? Relieved. Feel fucking relieved. Everything will be back to normal in the morning and_ —-  
  
“...no. No, I wasn't joking, I'm just sorry I put it to you like this.” Lupin really does look ashamed. This is going too far---Jigen feels himself losing control of his temper.  
  
“Fucking hell, Lupin, leave me with a little dignity here---”  
  
“Hey, I'm the one who's putting myself out there!” Lupin's eyes flash. “Stop fucking pretending you don't know what I'm talking about. I  _know_  you want me.”  
  
Jigen winces. He's heard Lupin say that so many times, to countless girls in bars, to Fujiko. Every time, it's a half a joke; they don't want him, or at least, not yet. They haven't wanted him, quietly, for so long they can't remember when it even started. Jigen can't bear to have that miserable line directed where it's due.   
  
He opens his mouth to deny it, to hurl an insult, to say anything at all, but nothing comes out. His heart is racing, he realizes, stomach knotted and legs shaky. He puts a hand behind him to the door to steady himself, then fumbles blindly for the knob again.  
  
“Jigen.” The tone is softer, more apologetic again.   
  
“This is a mistake, Lupin.” His voice is low, a final warning. He twists the knob and the door starts to open as he turns his back on his partner. “You don't want this. You can't---”  
  
The hand on his shoulder cuts him off, and faster than he can process, he is wrenched bodily around and shoved back up against the door, slamming it shut. Lupin's body crushes into him, and his gasp for air is cut off by the force of Lupin's mouth on his own. Stunned, his entire body sags for a moment, and then he pushes back weakly, turns his head away to break the contact, hands clenched into fists gripping Lupin's jacket. He feels Lupin's breath warm on his neck, and after a moment, softly, “You know me, Jigen. I know what I want when I see it.”   
  
Jigen wills himself to take a breath, grips Lupin's jacket tighter so he can't feel his hands shaking. He still won't turn his head back, eyes squeezed shut. His hat, jostled by the sudden impact with the door, is tipped precariously to one side. Lupin reaches up and delicately removes it, then smoothly tosses it away. His hand returns to Jigen's face, gently bringing it around again. He plants another, quicker kiss on Jigen's lips and smiles as the older man slowly opens his eyes.   
  
“I always get it, too,” Lupin adds, and Jigen's wide eyed stare turns into a scowl.  
  
“Fuck y---” Jigen starts, but Lupin has him by the collar, and quickly jerks him forward only to slam him back against the door a second time, grinning viciously at the way it makes Jigen go slack again. Now Lupin's mouth is on his throat, licking and sucking, and Jigen lets out a shuddering gasp. His legs are knocked apart by Lupin's knee as the thief presses closer, their thighs sliding against each other, Lupin pushing slowly, insistently with his hips. Jigen's hands clumsily brush Lupin's sides and then settle on his hipbones. The grip is tentative, neither pushing nor pulling, but as he feels Lupin's teeth graze the side of his neck, he draws him in.   
  
Jigen's tie comes off in one flick of Lupin's wrist, and fleet fingers find their way to undoing the buttons on his shirt, untucking it from the hem of his pants and then brushing it open. Lupin leans back a little and catches Jigen's eye. He holds his heavy-lidded gaze as Lupin's hand trails down his body, fingers brushing his belt line and pausing for a moment before continuing on over the now-taut fabric of the fly of his pants. Jigen makes a low, choking sound and grits his teeth, face flushing red.   
  
“L-Lupin---” he starts softly, but then the contact is broken. Lupin steps back, wicked grin replaced with sudden impassivity.   
  
“Oh, I know, I know. You were just leaving.” He turns away---the bastard actually turns and walks slowly back towards the sofa, the table and the damned scotch, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Jigen stares after him in disbelief. The blinding heat of lust flashes so quickly to fury that he barely knows what he's doing as he reaches for his gun. His fingers clutch at nothing, and he twists around to search for his beloved Magnum.   
  
A familiar click, and Jigen looks up to see Lupin, back still turned to him, holding the cocked gun. “Missed her that quickly, huh? Or were you really going to point this at me?”  
  
Jigen doesn't answer, ashamed at how easily the thief could disarm him, that Lupin had even thought to do it, that he'd been right to. After a moment he shoves away from the door, ducking down to retrieve his tie, but noticing with dismay that his hat has somehow managed to land next to the bed. He glances between it and Lupin, then takes a tentative step forward. Lupin still doesn't turn, and Jigen quickly makes for the hat, wondering how he'll manage to get the gun back after this.   
  
He reaches the edge of the bed, begins to bend, and stiffens up quickly as he feels the hard muzzle of the revolver at the small of his back.  
  
“Drop the tie,” Lupin whispers close at his ear. “Then the jacket, then the shirt.”  
  
Jigen feels something uncoil in his chest. He closes his eyes and takes a breath, lets go of his tie, and then shrugs off the jacket. The unbuttoned dress shirt quickly follows, finding its place with the rest on the floor. He flinches as Lupin presses the gun to the bare flesh of his back.   
  
“Belt,” comes the next command, but then, “no, wait, hmm...shoes and socks?” Jigen can hear the playful smile in Lupin's voice, but the gun is still pressed firmly at his spine, and it's a moment before Lupin steps back so that Jigen can bend down to comply.  _He knows it's loaded, right? One slip of his damned finger_...Jigen stands up again, resisting the urge to turn and look at the other man. The cold metal returns, and slowly moves up to rest between his shoulder blades.   
  
“Lupin...”   
  
“Now the belt.”   
  
“Lupin, you---”  _can drop the gun_ , he is about to say, but sharp pressure from the muzzle cuts him off. He undoes the belt and lets it fall. A pause, and then he unbuttons his pants as well.   
  
“I see you're getting the idea,” Lupin purrs at his shoulder, and the thief's other hand gently traces the lines of his ribs, dropping down to his hip as his pants fall to his ankles. Jigen shuffles them off, left with only his underwear, and at Lupin's tugging insistence, that comes off too. “Turn around,” Lupin says softly, and Jigen feels the gun leave his back. He hesitates, self-conscious, and then slowly turns.  
  
It shouldn't be a surprise, but it is---Lupin is nearly naked himself, just slipping out of those blue and white striped boxers, sporting an erection to match Jigen's own. He's still holding the Magnum, and as he steps forward to close the small distance between their bodies, he brings it up to rest the barrel lightly against Jigen's cheek. Their eyes lock and hold as the revolver follows the the curved hollow of his cheek down to trace his jawline, then up again until the muzzle rests lightly on slightly parted lips. Jigen's eyes widen but he doesn't pull back. Lupin's left hand finds the back of Jigen's neck, slides up until his fingers knot into dark hair, and then pulls forward as he eases the tip of the gun gently into Jigen's startled mouth.   
  
The cold metal finds his tongue just as Lupin moves his hips forward and their cocks brush past each other, Lupin impossibly hot and hard against him. Jigen's eyes roll up a little and his mouth works around the barrel---Lupin takes the opportunity to slide it further in, almost up to the cylinder, finger still resting lightly on the trigger. Jigen keeps his hands clenched at his sides, desperate to touch Lupin but terrified of causing an accident.  _What the fuck is he thinking?_  With considerable effort he refocuses on Lupin's face, and feels a dull ache in his groin at the unabashed arousal in the other man's expression.  _He isn't thinking. This is insane. It's loaded_ \---  
  
But now Lupin is slowly drawing the revolver out, a thin trail of saliva connecting the muzzle to Jigen's lips before the gun drops away. Jigen gulps and swallows, the tang of metal still thick on his tongue, but before he can speak, Lupin is kissing him. He tastes like scotch and salt and something slightly sweet, pulls gently with his teeth at Jigen's lower lip, and Jigen responds in earnest this time. He presses his body to Lupin, electrified by the warm contact of their stomachs, painfully aware of how hard they both are, how close. Lupin still has one hand on the back of Jigen's neck, one hand presumably still holding on to the damned gun, and Jigen wants that hand on him. He imagines Lupin's fingers moving over his cock and he moans a little, quietly, into Lupin's mouth.   
  
He can feel Lupin's grin, the soft laugh he gives in response, and then he's pushed back as Lupin moves past him to the bed. He turns and watches as Lupin seats himself at the edge, legs apart, smirking self-confidently. Lupin raises the revolver, levels it with Jigen's chest. There's a pause, and then the thief motions with his eyes. The gesture is perfectly clear:  _On your knees_. Jigen steps forward and then sinks down, holding eye contact even as his knees hit the floor. He barely even blinks as Lupin settles the Magnum at his temple.  
  
The two stare each other down for a breathless moment. Without letting his eyes leave Lupin's face, Jigen places one hand gently on his hip. The other hand smooths along the inside of Lupin's thigh, pushing it slightly aside. He moves a little closer, then takes hold of the base of the other man's cock, watching as Lupin's face flushes and his brow furrows. Jigen moves his palm up, then pulls forward and opens his mouth, tongue flicking lightly over his lips to moisten them. The revolver looms menacingly in the periphery of Jigen's vision, but the urgency in Lupin's wide-eyed expression and the way his breathing hitches make Jigen wonder who's really in control now.   
  
He takes him into his mouth slowly, and it's Lupin who breaks their eye contact first, biting his lip and turning his head to the side. Jigen closes his eyes and concentrates on the taste of Lupin's skin, moving his tongue experimentally against him. Lupin makes something akin to a whine and pushes his hips forward, too quickly. Jigen sputters and grunts, low and annoyed, pushing back with both hands but not fully breaking away. They glance at each other, and then Lupin lowers the gun a little, leans forward and pushes his other hand through Jigen's hair---somewhat roughly, and yet there's a distinct tenderness to the touch. Jigen's expression softens, and he takes Lupin deeper into his mouth again, undeniably pleased at the sharp gasp that follows. He falls into a rhythm, licking and sucking, fingers curved around Lupin's bony hips, Lupin's body curling forwards so that the top of Jigen's head brushes against his chest and upper stomach. Jigen can feel him trembling, hear him cursing softly, and he wishes he could see his face.   
  
He sucks harder and Lupin uncurls, arches his back, thrusts forwards, “Nnn, Jigen...” The sound of his own name, the way Lupin chokes it out, catches him by surprise---he's suddenly so hard it's painful. He slows down a little, draws off and then returns to lightly mouth and lap at the tip, focused and precise even through the dizzying haze of his arousal. Lupin cries out and twists his fingers in Jigen's hair, and Jigen notices with a start that the hand holding the gun---still pointed vaguely at his head---is shaking. He wonders if he can move quick enough to knock it out of Lupin's hand.  _Or maybe slow enough...slower might be better._  
  
Lupin's breathing is becoming more and more erratic, like he's struggling on the edge of control. Even with the Magnum held precariously at his temple, Jigen can't help wanting to finish him off now, to see it happen, to taste him. He needs to draw it out though, to make a move for the gun. He swallows him down slowly again, and simultaneously lets his hand slip off Lupin's hip and drift along his thigh. Just a little more...  
  
“Fuck, Jigen, w-wait,” Lupin moans. He's about to come, and for a moment Jigen forgets the danger. He continues the movement of his tongue, his hand stopped just short of reaching for the revolver, all purpose lost to his partner's pleasure. Lupin's entire body tenses under his touch, then, “Nnngh...no...stop. Stop!”  
  
Jigen freezes, blinks twice as the muzzle presses hard against the side of his head. A second later he makes a startled yelp as Lupin yanks him backwards by the hair.   
  
“What...?” Jigen wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes flitting confusedly between Lupin's stern expression and his still-hard cock.   
  
“Not...not yet.” He sighs, and smiles---back in control again, Jigen realizes---and then gestures with the gun. “Get on the bed.”  
  
“If I do, will you put that fucking thing away?”   
  
“Maybe.”   
  
Jigen glares for a moment, then slowly stands. Lupin slides over a little to make room, watching expectantly while the older man hesitates, unsure. Jigen puts a hand on the mattress, then brings up a knee---quick as lightning, Lupin is up and behind him, a forceful hand on his back pushing him forward and down. He loses his balance and falls face-first into a sprawl on the sheets. Before he can even turn his head to unmuffle his curses, the other man is on top of him, his body's heat and weight causing a pang of excitement in spite of the momentary embarrassment and growing annoyance.   
  
There's the now-familiar feeling of the gun pressed to the back of his skull, and he's had enough---he manages to get his hands under him enough to lift himself up slightly and half-turn. “Drop it, Lupin,” he growls. “It's not a toy.”  
  
There's a giggle from behind him, and then Jigen goes white as he hears the click of the hammer falling. For several seconds, there is only silence, empty as the cylinder, and then the dull thud of the Magnum hitting the floor next to the bed.   
  
“You really didn't know?”  
  
“...you're crazy.”   
  
“You trust me.”   
  
It's true. _Maybe I'm crazier than you are._  
  
“Don't tell me it didn't keep things interesting for you,” Lupin continues, shifting his weight and then sitting up so that he's straddling the small of Jigen's back.  
  
“Interesting is one word for it,” Jigen mumbles, one part of his attention on the way Lupin's hands smooth over his shoulder blades and down his spine, the greater part on the fact that the pressure on his cock is painful. He wants to roll over, starts to squirm a little, and to his surprise Lupin actually lifts up and off of him. He tries to move onto his side, but then there's a firm hand on his back.   
  
“Stay there for a minute.” Something in Lupin's voice holds him, even as he feels the mattress shift when Lupin gets up. He lies on his stomach obediently, breathing out slowly and then taking in the clean smell of the sheets. He feels light-headed, and his pulse drums loudly in his ears. He isn't even sure how long Lupin is gone---a minute stretched out into an hour and then snapped back to a second when Lupin's hands find his hips and lift up.  
  
They move together in silence, repositioning until Jigen's body is raised on knees and forearms, legs apart. Lupin curves around him, leans down to kiss the base of his spine, and then reaches off to the side for something Jigen can't see. A moment later, he gives a start as Lupin's fingers---cold and slick with something---push into him. His breath catches in his throat and he digs his fingers into the mattress, but then Lupin slips the other arm around his waist, palm flat and pressing gently at his stomach, sliding down until it reaches his cock.   
  
There's a surge of relief as Lupin takes hold of him, and someone makes a soft sound---he isn't sure which one of them. He lowers his head, letting his forehead brush the sheets as Lupin strokes him slowly, trying to focus on the feeling of Lupin's hand on him rather than the fairly painful sensation of being penetrated. It occurs to him that Lupin is aware of this, is matching the movement of his hand to the working of his fingers, and he's suddenly self-conscious. He strains against the swift tug of memory, pulling him back towards other encounters, blurry and out of focus. He can't help but hear Lupin's voice--- _now and again, been known to happen-_ \--and tries to push away the thought of Lupin with other men. How many years had they been partners? How much had they done together?  _What did we do when we were apart?_  
  
“Jigen.”  
  
“Hnn?”   
  
“Relax.” Lupin's thumb moves up from the underside of his shaft and over the head, causing a shudder of pleasure that snaps him back to the present. At the same time, he feels Lupin's fingers pulling out, and then the light pressure of Lupin's cock brushing up against him.   
  
He takes a breath, closes his eyes and holds it tight through grit teeth as Lupin pushes forwards. Pain blooms behind his eyelids---“Fuck!” he chokes out, buries his   
face in the crook of his elbow, but the intensity of heat and tightness also makes him harder, and his own cock jumps in Lupin's hand. Lupin tightens his grip in response, bringing his hand down to meet the forward thrust of his hips, starting up a slow rhythm. He puts his other hand on Jigen's hip to steady himself, moves his knees to spread Jigen's thighs further apart.   
  
The muscles in Jigen's legs and upper arms are tense and aching---he knows he's shaking, knuckles white as the sheets clenched in his fists, and he hears himself gasp every time Lupin pushes into him. It isn't getting any easier. He glances over his shoulder, hoping to meet Lupin's eyes, but finds them closed in concentration or indulgence. He takes the opportunity to study the other man's face for a moment, the way he sometimes does while Lupin is reading, or cleaning his gun, or sleeping...  
  
Of course, this time he catches Jigen looking, an amused smile that fades quickly when he sees the pained expression his partner is wearing. He pauses mid-thrust, then pulls out slowly and leans back to rest on his knees.   
  
“Mmm...turn over, okay?”  
  
Jigen quirks an eyebrow, but does as he's asked, collapsing forwards onto his stomach with a barely-contained sigh of relief. He rolls over onto his back, and immediately Lupin is tugging at his hips, pushing his legs up and apart. He grimaces as Lupin re-enters him, too quickly, and actually opens his mouth to protest, but the sound that comes out is unexpected---a startled half-moan, half-whine as they finally connect.   
  
“Hmm?” Lupin teases, mocking confusion. “Yes?”   
  
By way of response, Jigen reaches up and catches him by the back of the neck, pulling him down into a hard kiss. Lupin rocks his hips, every thrust pushing the breath out of Jigen's mouth and into his own. The pace quickens, the movement of their bodies becoming more fluid and controlled, Jigen arching his back as Lupin supports himself with one arm and slips a hand between them.   
  
His touch is perfectly timed. Jigen buries his face in the side of Lupin's neck, mouths his name and then “fuck, yes, yes,” pressing himself as close as he can. He comes hard, grinding against Lupin, forcing a low answering moan. After a few more shaky thrusts, Lupin starts to pull back, but Jigen's hands slide down his back to his hips and hold him in place. Lupin tenses above him and there's a rush of warmth, a soft cry of relief. He sinks down, sprawls out lazily on top of Jigen with a sigh, slick with sweat, making no move now to untangle or disconnect their bodies.   
  
They lie quietly for a few minutes, the only movement the steady rise and fall of their chests. There's an uncomfortable moment of loss when Lupin finally pulls out and rolls away, the sense of something irrevocably changed between them. Anxiety creeps up, like cold air rushing in through a crack into the warm space of Jigen's chest. He wants to say something, wants Lupin to say something, but can't come up with any words he could speak or hear that wouldn't sound hollow, or maybe too full. Finally he turns onto his side, facing away, and starts to curl up.   
  
He hears Lupin shift, and then there's an arm around him, mouth pressed gently to his shoulder. Lupin fits himself against Jigen, chest to back, legs following the others' curve, warm and solid. Jigen turns his head, is met with a sleepy grin.   
  
“Blanket. Over there.” Lupin nods towards the foot of the bed. The comforter is just within Jigen's reach, and he stretches for it---Lupin doesn't let go of him, clinging even though it makes shaking out and arranging the covering that much more difficult. After a minute Jigen manages to get it mostly over their bodies, and Lupin sighs happily.   
  
Silence again, and then, “Lupin.”  
  
“Mmm?”  
  
“...nevermind.”  
  
“Uh huh. Goodnight, Ji.”  
  
“Goodnight,” Jigen says quietly, smiling.


End file.
